


Sell My Soul

by cyanidegirl



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, So much angst, it doesn't end well, really short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidegirl/pseuds/cyanidegirl
Summary: What is a soul worth?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prose prompts sent to me on tumblr

  You're hands are covered in blood and they've been covered in blood before but this time is different.  This time it's for a horrible reason and for the first time in your life you know that you'll never be able to wash your hands well enough.  The blood will always linger.

      He is laying in your lap, struggling to breathe and you are just trying to stop the god damned _blood_ from leaving him.  You are trying but it is not working and he keeps trying to talk but you don't want him to.  Because if he started talking that means he's going to leave and you can't let him leave.  Not when he just got you back.

      You want to yell at him, want to scream at him for being so stupid.  He's got a savior complex big enough to bury the world and a habit of putting everyone's lives above his.  Especially yours.

      So you want to yell at him but can't bring yourself to.  Some small part of you knows that this is the end, that he's going to leave.  That part doesn't want it to end in yelling.  It urges you to be gentle and comforting, to hold his shaking hand and brush the hair from his face.  

      Your heart shudders at the blood smeared in his forged when you do this.

      He tells you it's going to be fine and you want to yell again but you can't.  Your words are a waterfall, a tumble of assurances they he's going to be fine and that he's going to make it and he, he squeezes your hand, calls your name.

      He's looking at you, and that stupid mask is in the way of those gorgeous eyes and maybe it's better that you see the pain and fear that they are filled with.  He's looking at you and he knows he's not going to make it.  He's whispering now, fighting to get his last words right and you feel like you're dying right with him.  You lean down and kiss him one last time, one last lingering kiss.

      You feel his breath stop, and right now you would give anything to change that.  You would sell your soul to bring him back.


End file.
